


The Butterfly Effect

by orphan_account



Category: Dangan Ronpa, Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Despair, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-13
Updated: 2015-11-13
Packaged: 2018-05-01 08:57:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5199890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which the little things they ended up doing incorporated into their lives gradually until it all became one big catastrophe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Butterfly Effect

As he clutched the sepia golden frame, his cynical visage of an expression wavering considerably, he began to ponder:  _When did sympathy and compassion seep into my soul for her?_

 

 He speculates it all began with her sloppily-scrawled Valentine card. 

******************************

 "B-Byakuya-sama," she stuttered, her eyes flitting to the ground as he simultaneously glanced up at her. 

 He sneered at her, halting for a second to listen to what she was going to say that made her waste his time fruitlessly. The pause was left unnoticed, as she hadn't said anything yet except his name, gripping the hem of her monochrome skirt. 

 "What do you want?" He finally snapped, to which she flinched. She uncovered the object she was trying oh so hard to conceal, and he noted how her hands seemed to be shaking of its own accord, seemingly out of nervousness and fear. 

He examined the heart-shaped box, with badly scattered glitter and a ribbon strewn across somewhat accurately. 

 He peered at her again, only to see her eyes shut, waiting for him to perhaps degrade her use of baubles atop the box. 

 But he was still recuperating from the surprise. He never thought that she would ever be able to conjure up any confidence, albeit for her horrid pick-up lines that he always thought was lewd and too perverted to be sexy in any way. 

 He snatched the box from her petite little hands, snickering as he gently unwrapped the multi-colored ribbon from the glittery box. 

 Chocolates. How predictable. Yet he just couldn't materialize these words from his snarky lips as realization struck him that these were homemade. 

 After escaping from Hope's Peak Academy, he and the others found out that prior to their enrollment, the world was set aflame in catastrophic chaos. Everything they treasured had either been burned to ashes or scraps were still left behind for them to salvage.

 That's why Naegi and Hagakure hadn't received any chocolates. To do so, that meant that the girls were left to reconstruct the recipes themselves entirely out of scratch, an activity that required maximum effort and determination. 

 "Tch" was his reply instead, and she sighed in breathy relief, opening her eyes once again. It was a reply that just didn't seem to live up to most of his other judgmental replies, to which they both noticed. 

 He knew, at the crevices of his mind, that she was probably taking it the wrong way. Him not replying with a sarcastic comment was somehow reminiscent of him praising her joyously in her convoluted mind. 

 And it probably was, on a drastically contrasting level. He always snapped at people, never finding the plausible reason to ever comment positively to them. They were all inferior; they all had that one weakness or bad point that just seemed to shine and radiate horribly. 

 For once, he hadn't said anything particularly rude to her. It frightened him, this insignificant fact. 

 "You can have it back," he informed her, shoving the box back into her fingertips. It almost slipped out of her firm grasp, and if it weren't for his instinctual move to wrap his hands around hers to steady its shaking, the chocolates would've tumbled to the venata marble floor. 

 Her subtle violet eyes fluttered to their conjoined hands. A blush crept us her cheeks, but there was still looming melancholy in her pupils from what he just told her. He grimaced, not exactly comprehending if it was for her grim expression or that he was just holding her unclean hands. He snatched his hands away from hers, stuffing them in his pockets. 

 "Will you eat it if I feed it to you?" She inquired, and he rolled his eyes exasperatedly. There goes her perverted side comments. 

 "Like I want it to be fed from your dirty hands," he swiftly replied, sneering. "I just don't favor chocolates, is all," he added offhandedly. 

 She nodded, more to herself than him, as if she actually needed the reassurance. "I understand," she concluded, sending him a shaky smile. She wrung her hands behind her back before shoving a card onto his palms. 

 She legitimately went all out in commemoration of this trite and cliched day. He felt the hint of something foreign tug his chest, but he dismissed it as quickly as it appeared with the reminder of his senses as he sniffed her odorous stench. 

 The card read:

  _To my dearest Byakuya-sama,_

_Happy Valentine's Day! I'd just like you to know that I understand you don't like me. I understand that it isn't my insecurities compelling me to this conclusion, for it's as bright as day that you will never reciprocate the feelings I harbor for you. It seems like you ensnare me with your snide comments and maybe I'm a masochist, but I seem to enjoy it because I know that's the only way you were raised to respond. My stupidity and blind adoration for you has blocked most of my basic apprehension, but I'm staring to comprehend the fact that we'll never be together. Maybe it's because I can become Genocider Syo in the most random of times or maybe becuase im just too inferior compared to you, I probably will never know. As a romance writer myself, I can safely say when to stop trying._

_Touko Fukawa_

 His steely blue eyes skimmed over the handwritten words, eyes widening slightly as the meaning of them slipped into his mind. 

She was finally going to let go. He wouldn't have to smell her stench as she trails uselessly behind him, nor will he ever have to hear her annoying adoration filled voice, reserved only for him, ever again.

He should've been relieved. He should've been joyously celebrating, not staring open-mouthed at her after reading through the card. 

He felt another foreign feeling inundate his mind, one that was more of a pain rather than an ecstasy. A feeling he only ever heard in stories. 

It was regret. That was when he knew that this was the beginning of his end. 

 

******************************

 

"Maybe you should try to take off your glasses," Aoi offhandedly suggested as the two of them stood above the pristine chlorine-filled pool. 

Touko (when did he start calling her by her first name?) shook her head stubbornly.

"You just want to tease me from my naked mole rat face when I take them off, so no thank you," she explained, frowning at Aoi. 

Out of nowhere, Togami found himself delving into the conversation. "Stop degrading yourself like that. I recommend you take off your glasses now." 

Per usual, she wholeheartedly agreed. She took them off promptly, the sunlight filtering through the windows reflecting off her roundly-shaped glasses. 

Aoi clasped her hands in delight. "You look fabulous, Touko!" She complimented. 

"You're lying to me so you can gain my trust and then shatter it happily," she replied, turning away. 

Togami found himself glued to the ground. Her eyes were of purple moonlight and lost chances, of regret and other foreign feelings. 

This frightened him once again, and he tried to conceal it with some snide comments. "You should jump into the pool. Maybe it will rid you of your everlasting stench," he recommended, smirking as she spun around. 

For once, she hadn't complied happily. "I don't like swimming anyways. Besides, I'd look so demeaning in a bathing suit." 

He scoffed. "Just go into the pool with Aoi and do whatever girls do in the pool. Why can't you be normal for once?" 

It seems like he had cut a cord he wasn't supposed to. He was already traipsing on thin ice, and this emotional explosion was bound to happen. He just. . .he never thought it would infuriate her so much. 

"I can't be normal when I'm a serial killer when I come to the sight of blood! I can't be normal when I'm hopelessly infatuated with a boy who won't even give me the time of day! Normalcy was NEVER in my favor!" 

And just like that, he was pushed into the rectangular pool. His body became submerged in the water and he pushed up to the surface to catch a gulp of air. His clothes were sopping wet and clung to his skin; his light blonde hair matted to his forehead. 

Aoi dove into the pool and helped him swim to the edge. "I didn't need your help," he insulted, pushing her away. 

"Seems like you angered your girlfriend for once," Kirigiri smugly noted, her feet lightly dipped in the pool. Naegi chuckled in response. 

His eyes searched for a familiar head of wiry hair and violet eyes, but found none except Aoi's look of concern. 

"She's not my girlfriend," he defended himself, sending a fiery glare to Kirigiri.

"Then why do you keep looking at her as if she kept the world in the palm of her hands? But most importantly, why did you write her a letter apologizing for your cruelty?" Kirigiri questioned, tilting her head innocently. 

That damn Kirigiri. She was always delving into everyone's business and God, it was becoming tiring. He didn't reply to her inquiry and instead opened the same door Touko ran out of. 

He found himself sitting in the library, waiting for her.

She never came.

 

******************************

She let her hair loose. 

They were as subtly violet as her eyes. Her hair ended at the curve of her back, curling only slightly in the ends. It was in loose waves and he wanted to weave the strands through his fingers.

And he found himself wondering if love was real.

He caught himself in the nick of time, the moment before he was going to answer the question himself.

"I love you," she admitted to him for the millionth time, yet her eyes were cloaked beneath her lilac tinted hair. "I love you and I know you don't love me back." 

He opened his mouth to finally admit that he had fallen abruptly for her as well and that apologies would never erase what he had done for but if she just opened her mind to his regret maybe. . .

He was rambling in his head of words he wasn't going to say.

"I'm sorry you fell for the wrong person," he told her, eyes cold as hers brimmed with tears. 

"I am too." 

 

******************************

 

"He'll never love me. No matter how far the distance, our relationship will always stay the same," she informed Komaru, her voice detached, factual and desolately cold. 

She was wrong. He had been slowly falling for years and oh god, she was wrong. He was the one falling this time and she was the one chuckling as he fell into the pitch black darkness.

And he wondered when the tables had turned. She used to be the lovestruck one and he the sadist who watched her swelter and burn. 

Maybe it was his cold heart retaliating or maybe he just wanted some revenge for Touko successfully stealing his heart, but he lied to Komaru.

He lied to Komaru badly. 

"She's right, you know. I will never love her the way she has loved me, its just not meant to be," he told Komaru. 

She sighed, trying to cover it with an artificial smile. "I feel bad for Touko. Seems like she had fallen for the wrong guy." 

He felt bad for her too. As well as himself. 

 

******************************

She died for him. She died with the illusion of chasing him, her one true love, into the abyss of death and despair and all things dark. 

Part of his soul died with her too. The latter half remaining was insubstanstial and besieged with so much guilt and grief and regret on what could've been. 

It was the end of the beginning. 

 


End file.
